AKANNI POV
The night after Bukky and Demi's wedding, the city outside was quiet, but inside my penthouse, silence was unbearable. I had come home alone, carrying nothing but the weight of disappointment and the ache of loss. The house felt emptier than ever, even with all the luxury surrounding me. The trophies, the awards, the accolades—they meant nothing tonight. All I could feel was the absence of her.
I paced the length of my study, hands gripping the edges of the polished mahogany desk. My mind replayed every detail—the way Bukky's laugh had sounded with Demi, the ease of her smiles, the way she had looked radiant in his arms. Every image pierced me deeper than I cared to admit.
A long sigh escaped me, but it did little to ease the storm inside. I slumped into my leather chair, burying my face in my hands. For the first time in months, the carefully constructed armor of Akanni Bamidele cracked. I felt powerless. And the worst part? I had never felt so human.
That's when Mira entered, silent as a shadow. She had a knack for knowing when I needed her, even without me speaking. Her presence alone was grounding, a tether to reality.
"You've been quiet all day," she said softly, approaching the desk. Her voice had a warmth that cut through the heaviness in the room.
I lifted my head, eyes red and tired. "I… I don't know how to feel anymore," I admitted, my voice cracking slightly. "I thought I could handle this. I thought I could… let go. But seeing her… with him… it's like losing a part of myself."
Mira stepped closer, her hand brushing mine. "Akanni… you haven't lost yourself. Not really. You've just been blindsided by emotions that are hard to control. It's natural. It doesn't make you weak—it makes you human."
I looked at her, really looked, and saw the unwavering support in her eyes. The way she stood there, calm, steady, unwavering—it was almost like she could see right into the chaos in my mind and untangle it for me.
"I feel like I've failed," I admitted, voice low. "I failed to hold onto what mattered most. I failed to protect… her heart."
Mira crouched slightly, closing the space between us. She placed both hands on my shoulders, firm and grounding. "Akanni, you didn't fail. Love isn't about controlling everything. Sometimes it's about surviving the storms, about standing back up when it hurts the most. And you… you're standing, right now."
I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat making it difficult to speak. "But it hurts, Mira… it burns. I don't know if I can ever feel the same way again… if I can even focus on work."
Her thumb brushed my cheek, gentle and comforting. "You can. You will. But you have to allow yourself to grieve first. To feel the pain and let it teach you something about your own strength. You're stronger than you realize, Akanni. And you don't have to do it alone."
I exhaled slowly, feeling a tension I hadn't realized I was holding start to leave my body. "You… you make it sound so easy," I murmured, almost bitterly.
Mira smiled softly, brushing a stray hair behind my ear. "Nothing about life is easy. But leaning on someone who sees you, who knows your worth… that makes it a little more bearable. And you, Akanni, are worth more than you know."
The weight of her words, her presence, pressed against the storm inside me. Slowly, I felt the raw edges of grief soften, replaced by a flicker of clarity.
"You always know what to say, don't you?" I murmured, my hand brushing against hers.
"I just see what's in front of me," she replied gently. "And right now, I see a man who has built empires and conquered challenges. This… heartbreak… it won't define you. Not ever."
I took a deep breath, letting the warmth of her words seep into me. "You're right," I admitted, voice firmer now. "I can't let this… this loss break me. There's still so much to do, so much to build. And I will… I'll rise from this."
Mira smiled, squeezing my hand. "That's the Akanni I know."
I felt a rare smile tug at my lips.
"come here" I lifted her to my laps. Just taking in her smell put me at ease.The heaviness had not vanished entirely, but it had shifted, transformed into something more manageable—a resolve to reclaim my focus, my life, and my purpose.
For the first time that night, I felt like myself again, anchored by Mira's unwavering support. And as I sat there, watching the city lights glimmer below, I realized that while some battles were lost, the war for my own heart, my empire, and my destiny was far from over.